


sharing different heartbeats (at one time)

by abapical



Series: A Series of Incestuous Events [5]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Father/Son Incest, Incest, M/M, Multi, Wolf Derek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-14
Updated: 2014-08-14
Packaged: 2018-02-13 04:36:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2137218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/abapical/pseuds/abapical
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles tells (some of) the truth to Derek and John.</p>
            </blockquote>





	sharing different heartbeats (at one time)

**Author's Note:**

> It turns out getting sick _and_ slammed by work _and_ having to break this part in two (the next chapter is pretty much all porn and feelings, I just couldn't make it fit with this one the way I originally planned) kind of throws off lofty goals like posting updates. Trying to be better, I swear!

So there’s kind of a snag in Stiles’ awesomely foolproof master plan to get Derek and his dad together. Namely, the part where he wants to crawl onto the couch right now and snuggle them both just as badly as he wants them to snuggle each other.

Or more than snuggle, if he's really honest. But baby steps are necessary since they don't have the excuse of his heat hanging over their heads right now. 

His most recent fantasies involve that moment during his heat where he was tucked against his daddy’s chest and Derek was behind him. Only, in the fantasies, the two of them are also kissing above him. Stiles is just a teenager, he has his whole life to be kissed, but his dad's been lonely for a long time now, even though he never says so.

And Derek is really, really good at making a guy feel wanted. Stiles, right this second, is experiencing so much want he has this urge to take his clothes off, or at least let his shirt ride up so he can feel Derek's fur against his skin.

It doesn’t even seem like a weird thing to him; Derek is strong and warm and handsome and Stiles likes the way he makes him light up like a Christmas tree just by existing. It doesn't matter if he's a wolf or a human at the time. And he _really_ likes the little smile his daddy gets when Stiles looks up from burrowing his face behind Derek's ear. Maybe invading their bonding time and sidling up for wolf hugs wasn’t such a bad idea.

Okay, he _knows_ he should be leaving them alone to get better acquainted, but then his daddy stops scratching Derek's head and cups the back of Stiles' instead, just rubbing the pads of his fingers in tiny circles against his scalp. It's not fair, he's always liked when his dad does that, and now Stiles wants to squirm his way onto the couch with them and let himself drift for a little while.

His little exhaled " _dad_ ," comes out sounding half exasperated and half pleased. Stiles sucks at intimidation. 

He could just leave, go jerk off quietly in his room, listen hard for sounds downstairs. That's the mission, operation _give dad an actual life_ , he's not supposed to be shoving himself in the middle.

The problem is, he’s too tactile for his own good. Someone touches him and he's ready to roll over and show his belly like _he's_ the puppy. And this isn't just anyone, this is daddy's hand in his hair and sleepy wolfed-out Derek next to him. He's only flesh and blood.

Clearly his dad doesn't need werewolf perceptiveness to tell what's going on. He gives Stiles' nape a careful squeeze, then lets go. "C’mere. There's plenty of room. I thought you finished all your homework at Scott's anyway."

His dad’s a smart guy, by now he must know exactly why Stiles went over to Scott's, and the way Stiles' mouth ticks into an involuntary wince just confirms that. “Right.”

"I know we're just sitting around being boring,” his dad continues, “but we missed you at dinner."

Stiles hesitates. "Really?" 

"It's not the same without you here.” And that makes Stiles' heartbeat jump in a way that he's sure Derek could hear a mile away.

Derek gives a low growl that sounds more like a purr than anything else and moves over without opening his eyes and that's all Stiles needs.

He ends up with one of Derek's paws resting on top of him and it makes him all tingly, like Derek's trying to keep him close even while he's a wolf and half-asleep. Ever since his heat, he's been wishing he didn't have to fall asleep alone every night. This is helping him get his fix, at least a little bit. He isn't ambitious enough to wonder if all three of them sleeping together in his daddy's big bed is something that could happen again, not unless he has another heat and his dad doesn't kill him for lying about his suppressants. 

He feels awful for it, but he still hasn't told his dad the truth and he doesn’t even have a good reason for it. It’s just that he really wants them to both be there for him when he goes into heat again. Lately he's been trying so hard to urge Derek and his dad together, but at the same time he just _wants_ things so much it makes him ache. His daddy's been so affectionate lately, and Derek gives him those long, lingering hugs every time they see each other and Stiles wants to let that be enough, but it isn't.

When he falls asleep, it’s with his cheek resting against Derek’s fluffy shoulder and his brain trying to wrap itself around the possibility of having two alphas.

He isn’t sure how long he’s out, but by the time he wakes up, something’s different. 

Derek’s soft, sleek fur is gone. When Stiles presses closer to him, blindly touch-seeking, his cheek brushes against bare skin. So he’s shifted back, not a big deal, though this does mean he’s probably naked now which really kind of _is_ a big deal.

Then Derek lets out a shuddery breath and Stiles' eyes pop open.

They're trying to be so careful about it since Stiles is right there and obviously they don't want to wake him. Derek is stretched out on his back, halfway into his daddy's lap, and his daddy is bent over him with one hand in his hair and the other splayed over his stomach. They’re kissing, there’s real live honest-to-fucking-God _kissing_ happening right under Stiles’ nose and they both look so lost in it that he tries extra hard to pretend he's still asleep, only he can't keep his eyes closed to save his life.

His daddy hasn't had the luxury of really, truly _kissing_ anyone on a regular basis for such a long time. His face is a little pink and he's gripping Derek's hair like he needs a lifeline, but the hand on Derek's middle is just stroking almost tentatively. Almost like he's not sure this is all right, even now. Stiles got a lot of kisses from Derek, in various stages of heat-lust, and all of them were really, really good. He doesn't blame his dad a bit right now. 

He’s still close enough that he could easily sling an arm over Derek, and he's kind of impressed that they're going at it with him right there on the couch, even though his dad knows what a heavy sleeper he normally is. Clearly his body just knew now was a great time to wake up.

Stiles has no idea when this started, how long it's been since Derek shifted back, which of them made the first move, but his daddy's hand slides up a little higher, his mouth parts a little wider--Stiles can actually see a pink flash of tongue--and Derek arches into his lap a little more. And all Stiles can think is _not anywhere close to long enough_.

Maybe they were going to try and be stealthy about it. Maybe the plan was for Derek to wolf out again so Stiles would wake up never suspecting a thing. That sounds exactly like something _he_ would try, so he's kind of gleeful at the thought of his dad trying it. He likes the idea of his daddy being so desperate to touch Derek that he couldn't wait to be alone with him, he had to do something reckless. It’s almost enough to make him wish he'd gone upstairs after all, so they could have done this more privately.

But even now he really, _really_ wants to press his mouth against the smooth skin over Derek's ribs and see if he can feel the way his breath trembles out of him. He could do it, Derek is just inches away and Stiles has his hands balled into fists since he's not sure he trusts himself not to reach out and touch. 

Then Derek moves so he's sitting up a bit more and one of _his_ hands is gripping the front of his daddy's shirt and forget touching, Stiles doesn't think he's going to be able to _breathe_ anymore. His daddy is getting mauled by a werewolf in the best way possible, this is the greatest night. Watching porn will have no effect now.

It hits him like a brick when he realizes Derek must already know he’s awake and is letting him watch anyway. And if that’s the case, it’s just a matter of time before he feels obligated to let his dad know. It’s probably for the best, since by now Stiles thinks he might rupture something if he tries to hold still and not make a sound for much longer.

His daddy _really_ seems to like it when Derek kisses his way along his jaw, but when Derek gets to his ear and whispers something his whole body seems to lock up on the spot. This isn't what's supposed to happen at all.

Stiles almost blurts out _what's wrong_ before he realizes he's supposed to be sleeping.

This is exactly what he's been angling for all along and he really doesn't want to miss it, but it's about his daddy, not him. If his daddy isn't comfortable, Stiles can blather some excuse about brushing his teeth, disappear upstairs, and leave them to it. If he must. 

What he actually does is reach out and give his dad's hand a squeeze where it's gone stock-still on Derek's chest.

He wonders if maybe his scent is making them both a little drunk. It’s not like he can just ignore the fact that his daddy’s been alone with Derek for the whole night, Derek _took his clothes off in front of him_ , and yet neither of them made a move until Stiles was cuddled up to them both. Maybe he really is helping things along just by being there and he doesn't even realize it

Stiles grips his daddy's hand a little harder and finally dares to press himself close enough to graze his lips against Derek's side. The words rush out of him all at once, he’s so desperate to say the right thing and hoping if he says _enough_ he'll eventually hit something good. "It's okay, really, you don't need to worry about anything. I'm not even here, you can totally just ignore me, I _swear_."

His dad actually laughs a little. “Kiddo, you’re not that easy to ignore.”

“And you have no idea how loud you are when you’re trying to be quiet,” says Derek.

Stiles curses himself for being a cockblock, but at least they seem amused instead of annoyed or worried. “No, I mean it. You don’t...you don’t need to stop, okay? I’m not here.”

His dad doesn't have to say a word, Derek moves off of him automatically and gives Stiles a nudge so he scoots up the couch to where his dad can reach out easily and pull him in close. Stiles moves with him like it's second nature, sliding into his lap and ducking his face against his dad's shoulder when he strokes his head and murmurs, "Don't say that."

Derek seems a little fidgety now, like maybe he’s not sure what to do with himself since he doesn't have heat pheromones spurring him towards any kind of action. Also he’s still naked and looking like he’s seriously considering just shifting back into a wolf.

As much as Stiles really wants them to keep on kissing and touching, he's such a sucker for hugs and not ready to let go of his daddy yet. He'd be more than okay with it if they decided to continue with Stiles right here in his dad’s lap, that would also be acceptable. He's not sure if he's allowed to suggest that, though.

His dad can probably tell Derek's getting jittery too, he's protective by nature even when another alpha is concerned. And in Stiles’ expert opinion, Derek looks a lot less anxious once his daddy rests a hand on his shoulder. Even less so when he pulls him closer, right against them.

Stiles lets out the tiniest whimper when Derek noses at his neck, the way he does when they say hello, just trying to inhale his scent. He’s already short of breath, like he's on the verge of being overtaken by a heat all over again, and he immediately arches his throat to let Derek have access to as much skin as possible. His daddy is still rubbing between his shoulders with one careful hand and Stiles is so light-headed he's probably in actual danger of floating away without both of them touching him.

He's also wearing multiple shirts and he really wants to lose at least one of them. Not even for sexy purposes, just because it's suddenly really fucking warm in here. He feels like being naked the same way he does when a heat is coming on, all prickly and uncomfortable in his clothes. But his daddy and Derek are both paying attention to _him_ now and that’s not what’s supposed to happen. He can cool off later; there are more important things that need to be addressed right now. Derek is still mouthing at his neck, which means he's really close to his daddy’s lips and all he'd really have to do is straighten up to get out of the way. Stiles is all but grabbing both of their heads and screaming _NOW KISS_.

So he paws at Derek’s arm a little, about as effectively as a kitten trying to command a lion, and hisses, “Dude, you didn't have to stop because of me.”

Then his dad speaks up, sounding so world-weary and apologetic Stiles wants to scream. "Stiles, I shouldn't have--" 

Stiles can't sit through another second of this. He tilts himself out of Derek's reach even though it kills him a little bit. " _Yes_ ,” he grits. “You should."

And then, just to get the point across, "You really, really, _really_ should." He slumps against his dad's shoulder. "You looked so happy."

Now his daddy’s looking at him like his heart just shattered. God, he sucks at this.

“Maybe,” Stiles says slowly, “we should talk. About important stuff.”

Derek clears his throat. “Um, I’m just gonna...clothes?” Given the choice, he’d probably much rather stay in wolf form for this.

Stiles must look pretty wounded, because Derek presses their foreheads together and promises he'll be right back.

Then he shifts back into his wolf, either to spare himself the indignity of walking into the other room naked or just because it’s _really fucking cool_ , and definitely preens a little when Stiles gasps.

“You know I just want you to be happy, right?” he says once Derek’s tail disappears around the corner.

His daddy doesn’t answer him, but his lips are soft against Stiles’ temple and he doesn’t push him away. Stiles heart is still pounding in triple time, but he thinks maybe that helps slow it down just a tiny bit.

 

* * *

 

* * *

_Talking_. This is going to be awful.

Derek's so bad at holding actual significant conversations. There’s a reason he’s in his mid-20’s and his mother handles all his heat contracts. If he had his way he’d just stay in his wolf form and let Stiles snuggle him like a huge teddy bear. That has to be at least as good as talking, right?

He has to take a few deep breaths while he gets dressed again because he knows this isn't something he's good at and he's gotten accustomed to having the Stilinskis in his life. What if he shoves his foot in his mouth and ends up losing that? He can't lose head scratches and safety and the familiarity of their scents all around him. Both of them always seem so genuinely happy to see him, and not in the usual "thank god you're here" welcome he normally gets when he's called in to assist an omega. John made him come to dinner before they were anywhere near that point. Stiles talked Cora into letting him come visit. This isn't a typical family, in so many ways.

He's a wreck by the time he goes back into the living room, but he's had a lot of practice at looking composed when he feels anything but, so at least he's got that going for him. 

Then Stiles, who's moved onto a couch cushion of his own like this chat is too serious for snuggling, announces, "So I haven't actually been taking my meds," and Derek almost trips over the carpet even though he _knew_ this already.

"Not the adderall," he adds after a beat. "The, uh, the other meds."

Derek feels like a jerk for being relieved by this. It was a truth that needed to come out _and_ it means all eyes are on Stiles so it saves him from having to speak up just yet.

Poor John is just gaping at him, his face twisting like he wants to be mad, but he's really just confused. "Your heats are so scary, kiddo. Why do you want to go through that again?"

John, Derek realizes, has no idea that they're a lot scarier for him than for Stiles. The second one was probably the best night of Stiles' life thus far. He can hear both their heartbeats thrumming away and he wants so badly to fix that but he makes himself stay back and not touch, this isn't the time.

Stiles is twisting his hands in his lap, his gaze flitting from John’s face and back to the floor over and over, willing him to _get_ it. "Because they're not scary when you help me.”

He glances at his dad and Derek in turn, making sure they both realize just who that _you_ is supposed to encompass, then squeezes his eyes closed. 

Derek is a breath away from leaping across the room to hold him and never let go. He has to be so terrified they're going to yell at him for not taking care of himself, or even worse, tell him he'll have to see another alpha for his next heat. Even though John would never force him to take the pills, it’s well within his rights to find Stiles another heat match. Derek still remembers Stiles looking at John and dreamily asking if he'd get to have Derek for his next heat, before there'd been any talk of suppressants and how young Stiles was to be having regular heats at all. He'd been so bowled over by his own body and _still_ had the presence of mind to ask about seeing Derek again, and now Derek can’t even imagine some strange alpha touching him. He's not an omega, he has no idea how bad it feels, being ready to claw out of your own skin just from _needing_ something so badly. He just knows Stiles' heats knocked him off his feet both times and he doesn't want to make this omega suffer if he can help it.

John scrubs a hand over his face. "Wouldn't it be even less scary if they just didn't happen at all? Or even if they just didn't hit you so hard?"

Stiles can't seem to look anywhere but his hands. "I liked the last one," he whispers. "You both stayed with me all night. It was...good. It was really nice."

To a point, Derek can kind of understand what he’s saying: the circumstances trumped all his anxiety, so he really doesn't remember feeling scared at all. But for John, it was torture. He’d had to sit downstairs for the first few hours, too, hoping he'd done the right thing by contracting Derek. 

"Stiles," John sighs, "I spent the whole night praying you didn't hurt yourself even though I was right there and Derek was doing everything he could to keep you safe. I don't understand what was _nice_ about that."

The first little tear slips out of Stiles' eye, and it takes everything Derek to stay where he is.

"But you were there," Stiles says in a choked voice that cuts Derek to the quick. "You saw what I needed and you made everything better and I _needed_ that." 

"Derek made it better, Stiles, I was just..." 

" _Both_ of you," Stiles says fiercely, finally looking up. It must be killing him to see his dad devaluing himself like that. "And then I got the pills but I thought if I didn't take them, maybe you'd both be there the next time it happened because otherwise--" 

He has to cut himself off as if he honestly doesn't know what he'd meant to say, but Derek can guess. 

_because otherwise I wouldn't get to have both of you with me like that._

"I didn't mean to scare you," Stiles mumbles finally. And Derek gets it, he really does. It’s hard for Stiles not to sound like he was going to make himself go into heat just to manipulate his dad into touching him. 

John slides an arm around him and draws him in for a little while, which makes Derek’s heart twist all over again. "So,” says John, when Stiles pulls himself together, “does this have anything to do with why you keep trying to shove me into Derek's pants?"

Derek, who's been trying to blend in with the curtains, chokes a little.

Stiles sniffles one more time, and when his head pops up he looks indignant and blotchy but sounds entirely like himself. "Hey, it _worked_."

John surveys him, all seriousness now. “You just want us to be there for you, huh?”

“Yeah.” Stiles’ voice is so soft Derek almost can’t make it out over the thrum of his own pulse.

“There's nothing wrong with that. But if you really think you have to be in heat for it to happen…” John can’t seem to figure out how to finish, but the look on his face says it all. 

Stiles’ brow crumples. “That’s not...I’m really sorry, okay?”

John turns his gaze on Derek. “Did you know about this?”

This is exactly what Derek’s been dreading. “Yes?” he ventures, trying to ignore the way his stomach somersaults when John sighs. “Kind of? We talked...he said he’d try to start taking them. I knew he hadn't, but I figured… I thought he wanted to talk to you about it first. It wasn't my place to say anything.”

“It doesn’t matter anyway,” Stiles interjects. “If I have you guys around the next time I get a heat, everything will be okay, right?”

John gives him a look. “We need to discuss that part a _lot_ more, but I was actually asking about your little matchmaking business.”

In Derek’s defense, he only chokes a little bit. “I...did actually know about that too, yeah. Stiles just wanted to make sure we got along.” He tries to sound matter-of-fact about this but John is giving him a serious alpha stare. 

"And by 'got along' you really mean--" he starts.

“I’ve never done anything even remotely close to this,” Derek blurts out.

John raises an eyebrow.

“Not the heat matching, I mean, just…” he waves one hand and hopes that magically fills in some of the blanks, “ _this_. And I like you both a lot.”

He sounds like he's about Stiles' age, but what the hell, John is half-smiling like this is charming or something. 

Stiles looks uncharacteristically shy. "Seriously, we’re still cool even though I screwed up?" 

Derek can't resist him then, he crosses the room and sits next to him on the couch, extricates him from John's arms enough to nose at his neck, scratch his fingers over Stiles' fuzzy head. "I like you a lot."

"And you like dad a lot too, right?"

Derek looks up to find John staring back at him, looking guarded, arm still around Stiles' back.

"Yeah," Derek says, sliding his hand up John's arm, watching his expression soften at the touch, reminiscent of the way Stiles melts into a hug. "A lot."

"I _knew_ it," Stiles says, triumphant, smiling so big that Derek can't help kissing him. Derek doesn't really know what he's doing here, but showering affection on the Stilinskis is pretty easy, so he'll just stick with what he knows for now.

Stiles is already tucking himself against them a little more. "So I don't have to take the pills?" 

For a long moment, John rubs his neck and doesn’t say anything. “I’d rather you at least _tried_ them, even if you don’t want to do that now, but it’s your own decision.”

Stiles nods gravely. “Okay.”

Derek knows he shouldn’t revel in the flicker of pride he feels, but part of him is secretly glad that Stiles isn't going to be on suppressants now that he knows it'll be him there for the next heat. He _does_ like his job. All the same, he hasn't signed any other contracts since the one that led to him showing up clean-shaven. He tells himself he just wants to be sure he doesn't have a scheduling conflict when Stiles goes into heat again. And he still remembers how crushed Stiles had looked that day even though he'd tried to hide it. 

“And you’ll both be there, right?” Stiles looks almost cartoonishly serious. “If you want to, I mean...you can.”

The somersaulting in Derek’s stomach comes back with a vengeance. There’s a new dimension to John’s scent, a sharpness that wasn’t there before. Derek swallows and waits.

Over Stiles’ head, John gives an almost imperceptible nod.

Derek runs his palm over Stiles’ hair, not taking his eyes off John. “Yeah, Stiles. We’ll be there.”


End file.
